Artificial Love
by Jal'ier
Summary: While John is away, Sherlock creates a robotic version of him to temporarily fill the void. But when "Johnbot" exceeds Sherlock's expectations for him, the detective is met with a dilemma. Eventual Johnlock. Beware of angst and a new kind of feels. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Perfection_, thought Sherlock Holmes as he examined his handiwork. An almost exact portrayal—from the curve of the face down to the texture of the hair. He had even added a scar to the left shoulder, if only for show. Sure it was covered by a button-up shirt and jumper, but it made Sherlock feel better to know it was there. What had the genius gotten himself into this time? He had made a near-exact replica of his best friend, in robotic form.

John had left to help his sister through a relapse in her fight against the drink, though Sherlock would only learn the latter part later. All he knew for the moment was that John was gone, for a while judging by what he had taken with him, and that he wasn't in danger. So without a case and without John, the detective had been suffering a long-term bout of boredom. And since creating a case would be…well a very bad idea, he went with the not-quite-but-almost-as-bad idea of creating a John. Or, as he liked to call the mechanical version of his flatmate, Johnbot.

As he powered Johnbot up, he felt the pride of an artist who had just finished his masterpiece—excited, but still vigilant for parts in need of improvement. But Johnbot was working flawlessly, and blinked around the room, processing and cataloguing information faster than it could be given. Finally his camera-eyes rested on his creator, and he simply stared unblinkingly.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and said, "Johnbot?" No acknowledgement. "Johnbot, blink." Johnbot blinked once. Sherlock beamed at the response. Time for the final piece. "Hold still, Johnbot." He moved around to stand behind the chair where Johnbot was seated and accessed the compartment in the back of his neck. Exposing the inner workings running everything, Sherlock carefully inserted the personality chip he'd made. He went back around to see how well it worked.

The change was almost instantaneous. Johnbot blinked a few times, processing this new info, then shifted his position from sitting stiffly to a more relaxed state. Then Johnbot saw Sherlock's anticipating stare and his mouth twitched downward in confusing. He opened his mouth but while his lips formed the question, "what," he didn't make a sound. Sherlock then recognized his own name being mouthed. For a moment he just stared in fascination as the object of his study attempted to use his voice with no success, but when Johnbot started to panic, he spoke.

"Don't worry," Sherlock said in his most soothing voice. "Calm down. I can fix that."

Johnbot repeated his last words noiselessly, then settled for raising an eyebrow as if to say, "What did you do?"

"Oh right, something's wrong with you so clearly it's my fault," Sherlock grumbled, lip sticking out slightly in a pout. The look of regret and apology he got kept him quiet about the fact that his lack of speech was entirely Sherlock's fault. He made a move toward the access panel again, but the curious creature's head turned so he could watch. "No, don't move. I need to get to the back of your neck."

Johnbot looked more confused but allowed Sherlock to get behind him and to the wiring to reconnect the ones that allowed him to speak.

"There, how is that?"

"Hmm—ah! Better." He smiled a bit. "Thanks, Sherlock."

Sherlock started a bit in surprise. "So you know who I am?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you know who you are?"

"Yes." Johnbot furrowed his brow. "Why—"

"Do you know who John is?"

"What are you on about?"

"John."

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"No, I mean John. Not you."

"Right. Are you feeling okay?"

Sherlock huffed. "No self-awareness, then." He sat down across the table from Johnbot and looked him in the eyes. "You're not John. You're John_bot_, and I made you to look and think like John Watson."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"No, I'm serious."

The stern look he got made Johnbot consider. "You created me?"

"Yes, and I programmed out John's slight closed-mindedness so really you should be able to accept the idea." Because his artificial friend looked like he still needed a bit more proof, he added, "How far back do your memories go?"

Johnbot took an instant to calculate. "Today…"

"When is your birthday?"

"…I don't remember. How do I not know?"

"Because I can never remember! And since I programmed you, you only know as much as I do."

Things seemed to click in Johnbot's mind and he let out a somewhat anti-climactic, "Huh."

Sherlock studied his friend's look-alike. "How do you feel?"

Johnbot shrugged and studied Sherlock right back.

"You're taking things rather well."

He shrugged again. "How should I take them? Is this not how John would take them?"

"I don't think he'd believe me." _Though it might be interesting to try,_ he thought. He dismissed the idea before it could form completely. More trouble than it's worth.

"Oh right." Johnbot looked around the room then stood and walked over to the settee only to sit down again.

Sherlock followed, curling up on the other side to watch Johnbot. "Is it terrible, being you?"

"Not really, no. Though I think it doesn't fully sink in, whether I believe you or not. Or at least not right away."

"Do you hate me?" It was a somewhat juvenile question but it had to be asked.

Johnbot smiled. "No."

Sherlock couldn't help but smile back. "I'm glad." He took the pillow next to him and placed it on Johnbot's lap, turning so he could lie down and look up.

The two looked at each other in silence, each recording everything about the other.

After a few minutes, Sherlock's curiosity got the better of him. He was surprised he could hold it in so long, but Johnbot fascinated him and he was fine just studying him quietly for a time. When that time was up, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Johnbot considered this. "A lot of things. Mostly I'm wondering if John would allow you to do this." He gestured to Sherlock's resting position.

"Hm, probably not," Sherlock replied. "But remember, I programmed you to be more open. So this is an effect of that." He closed his eyes, not caring to explain in detail.

"I see." There was a pause before Johnbot asked, "Then did you program the feelings I have for you?"

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. "I'm sorry?"

Johnbot tried rewording. "Feelings for you, did you do that? I mean, make me like you?"

Sherlock frowned in confusion. "No, that wasn't me."

"Oh. Alright, then."

It was only when he stopped did Sherlock notice Johnbot had been gently running his hand through Sherlock's hair. "Oh don't worry about it. That's…perfectly fine."

Johnbot's only response was to return his hand's attention to Sherlock's dark curls.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, this got more response than I thought it would! Thank you all, and I apologize for what you're about to read. :'(**

If anyone happened to check in on 221b Baker Street a couple of days later, they would've been rather startled at the calm, warm, atmosphere that had enveloped the flat when Johnbot came to be. Luckily, Sherlock had thought to inform Mrs. Hudson every once in a while that he was done sulking and yes, he was eating and no, he didn't need anything from the shop.

So Sherlock and Johnbot remained undisturbed, sitting on the couch in each other's arms. They had been very comfortable with each other from the start, and would spend most of their time just sitting together. For a while they talked as well, but soon they found out how content it was in the silence. Sherlock had yet to be bored enough to do anything drastic, finding Johnbot interesting enough to occupy his mind for the time being. He found himself wishing things were like this with him and John. If John were a bit less awkward, Sherlock thought he could really be happy even if he didn't like the detective quite as much as Johnbot did.

But Johnbot wasn't John, and that made things difficult. One more day had gone by and Sherlock was over the initial excitement and contentedness that followed it. Now he was back to missing John and sulking. Having Johnbot around wearing John's clothes and his smiles and that godforsaken loving expression on his face that looked so much like John but wasn't. It was only day three and Sherlock couldn't take it anymore.

"Johnbot."

"Hmm?" The robot in question looked up from his place with his head on Sherlock's lap, where he had plopped himself to play with John's laptop. Sherlock had unlocked it for him, and Johnbot liked reading John's blog.

"Please, could you leave John's laptop alone?"

Johnbot looked slightly hurt but closed the lid and put the computer on the table nearby. He sat up. "Everything okay, Sherlock? You've been sulking again."

The worry in the eyes that were just like John's but not was too much, and Sherlock looked away so he wouldn't have to see it. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?" Johnbot's tone made it clear he knew.

Sherlock looked at him and whispered, "I'm so sorry. I just can't. You're so much like him, but so different."

"I understand."

"John will be back soon, I think."

"I think so, too."

"I'm going to have to…"

"I know."

"I'm so sorry," he said again. He felt the prickle of small tears at the corners of his eyes, but he controlled them.

"It's okay."

Here Johnbot was facing termination and still trying to comfort Sherlock. Sherlock inwardly cursed himself for making him that way, even though deep down he knew that he hadn't. He had programmed a lot of the personality but it had altered in subtle ways since then. Johnbot had changed all on his own, and he had fallen in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock stared at the man-made yet human being smiling sadly back at him and came to a decision. "Tomorrow," he said. "I would like one more day, if you want it." He almost smiled at the grateful look he received. Almost.

"There's nothing I'd want more."

Sherlock stood. "Then I'm going to sleep. It's quite late." He looked down at Johnbot. "Coming?"

"Sure," Johnbot replied and followed him to Sherlock's room.

They laid down next to each other, Sherlock snuggled up against Johnbot. "Shall I put you in Sleep Mode?"

Johnbot smiled a bit. "I'm not tired, but if you're going to sleep then go right ahead."

"Alright."

"Goodnight, Sherlock. See you in the morning."

Sherlock reached behind Johnbot's neck and put him in Sleep Mode before his heart could break any further. He sat up and gazed sadly down at his new friend. "Goodnight," he said. "I'm sorry, but I feel the best way to go is with the promise of a tomorrow in your heart." He sighed a shaky sigh. "Because you most definitely had one." And with a quiet whisper of, "I'll miss you," he put to rest the robot he'd created as a copy who had made himself into one-of-a-kind.


	3. Chapter 3

John Hamish Watson returned to Baker Street to find exactly what he expected. Mrs. Hudson was fretting over Sherlock locking himself up in the flat. She claimed he'd been alright, visiting her almost every day just to greet her and assure her everything was fine. But something happened a couple of days ago, she wasn't sure what, and he would no longer answer the door or eat or sleep.

"Don't worry," John soothed. "I'm sure he'll be fine." He wished he was as sure as he sounded. He expected sulking, but he still never knew how extreme Sherlock might be. He headed upstairs to find out.

Inside 221b, smoke drifted about the room and John was immediately on alert. "Sherlock?"

The genius was curled up in his armchair, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers being the source of the smoke.

Irritated, the doctor took a calming breath before dragging his suitcase over and sitting in his own chair across from Sherlock. "So, no cases while I was gone, I take it?"

"Lestrade called this morning." His voice was flat, emotionless.

"Oh? What did he say?"

"I don't know, I ignored the call."

John blinked in surprise. "You _what?_ Sherlock…are you okay?"

Sherlock regarded John for the first time since he entered the room. "You're a doctor. What's your diagnosis?"

John lowered his voice. "Something happened while I was away."

"Genius," he practically sneered.

The word stung. "Well since I'm clearly not, you're going to have to tell me what happened." He was a little bitter, but mostly worried.

There was a flicker of regret in Sherlock's eyes, but it was replaced with the cold mask he previously had on. "I made a friend."

"Really? That's great!" Then he remembered the situation. "Oh, did something happen?"

"He died."

John's eyes widened. "Christ, Sherlock, I'm sorry."

"It was my fault."

"What do you mean? It can't have been."

"But it was. I had to get rid of him."

"You—why would you do that?"

Sherlock heaved a sigh. "You wouldn't have liked him, so he had to go before you returned."

"Oh god, Sherlock, please don't tell me you killed someone just because you thought I wouldn't like him!"

"Don't be ridiculous, John, I didn't kill anyone."

"But you just said…?"

"You haven't been listening!" He hopped up and ground the cigarette into a plate of untouched food sitting on the table. " 'I made a friend.' _Made_. Literally!"

"But that's not possible." John blinked. "Not yet, at least. Right?"

"See for yourself." Sherlock retrieved a notebook from the other side of the room and dropped it in John's lap. It was a moleskin one much like his other, only slightly bigger, somewhere between that and a regular sheet of printer paper.

John took up the book and thumbed through he drawings and diagrams on creating an artificial person. "This is incredible, Sherlock!"

"Look at the last page. You won't be so happy then."

John turned to the page in question and stared. "Sherlock, what the hell is this?"

"Johnbot."

"It looks just like me!" He wasn't sure if he was more upset or confused.

"_He_, John, not _it_."

"What?" Confused, then.

"Johnbot was a 'he,' not an 'it,' and _he_ liked me." Sherlock flopped onto the settee and curled up into his dressing gown.

This was all just so unlike his flatmate, John wasn't sure what to do. He felt he should be yelling at him about how it was wrong to create robots of people you knew, but in the state he was in he just couldn't muster the energy to do it. Before he said anything, he thought the whole situation through. Then the last thing Sherlock said clicked somewhere in his head. "He liked you? What, like…?"

"Yes, John." Sherlock couldn't keep the slight venom out of his voice.

John pursed his lips and looked down at his shoes. "And this Johnbot…was his attraction to you the reason you had to get rid of him or the reason you liked him so much?"

Sherlock huffed. "Both." He tried to leave it at that. One word. Simple, easy, truthful. But he couldn't. He had to keep talking. "You see, Johnbot was actually rather like you except in one way. But it hurt…" He sat up, animated by his passion on the subject. "I mean physically hurt to be around him sometimes. Because he was just like you in every respect except one. A single difference that's such a subtle change it would seem like nothing on a technical level but in reality that gap between you was so big. The difference was that he had feelings for me and so showed me affection. But I knew it wasn't really you..." His shoulders slumped as his speech came to a conclusion.

At all this, John fell silent for a long time. After a while the silence became worse than the conversation had been.

Sherlock forced himself to look at John, trying to keep any emotion out of his face. "Are you okay, John?" Damn his voice for betraying his concern and fear of his flatmate's reaction.

"I understand…" It was quiet, but sure. And it confused the hell out of Sherlock.

"I'm sorry?" He nearly feigned cleaning out his ear to emphasize his point of disbelieve that he'd heard correctly.

"I get it. I mean…" John cleared his throat. "I know what it's like to really like someone and think they don't return your feelings. Just about everyone in the world has been through that." He tried to stop. Short and sweet, no confessions involved. But he couldn't. He had to keep talking. "And living with them just makes it worse. Because the closer you get to them, the happier you are but at the same time the more it hurts to think they don't think of you the same way you think of them."

"John." Sherlock tried to cut him off. He couldn't take this, not right now.

"No, Sherlock, I just mean to say that I understand." John hesitated before moving to sit next to his hurting friend and opened his arms as an offering.

Sherlock just looked at him for a moment, then folded into John's embrace. "I'm sorry, John."

"Shhh," the smaller man cooed. "It's alright. I'm just so sorry all this had to happen. I feel like it's my fault as well. If I had just been more willing to accept the truth…well I suppose more like Johnbot. If I had been more like him, all this heartache could've been avoided." He nestled his head into the detective's hair. "I just hope I can make it up to you."

"I don't deserve that," Sherlock said almost inaudibly.

"Nonsense," John replied. "Everyone does. Especially you, and after what you've been through."

"But it isn't fair, after what I've done."

"Well life isn't always fair, Sherlock."


	4. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Both afraid of mistakes, Sherlock and John tread carefully when it came to their relationship. They slowly came to realize that being together didn't change a thing about their actual friendship, it simply added to it. Things weren't as they had been the two days he and Johnbot had spent together, but Sherlock considered it so much better. Because it was real.

Still, he found his mind wandering back to his creation every so often. When he got into one of these moods, it was a lot like his caseless sulking. But when this happened, simply holding a box made him feel a somewhat better. This box was just one among many to most people, sitting on the bookshelf. It was empty except a single computer chip made by a genius once to give a robot life. But if anyone looked closely, they'd see written in Sherlock's own hand:

_A Friend_

_Born a machine, died a man._

__**A/N: Thanks for reading and responding. :) Hope you enjoyed this!**


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